


all in a moment through the gloom were seen

by botherd



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 21:30:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/botherd/pseuds/botherd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>It felt like he was spying into something private.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	all in a moment through the gloom were seen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [grenadine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grenadine/gifts).



> Thanks to Aris for the last minute beta. Title from _Paradise Lost_.

Since Will arrived back in his world almost a year ago, Mary had taught him a lot of things. She had taught him how to speak to the authorities in such a way to make them listen, and together they had taken Will's mum out of the care home that Mrs Cooper had had to place her in and found sufficient funds for a live-in carer in their new Oxford home. Will had been surprised by how persuasive Mary was; she didn't have Mrs Coulter's sweet charm, or Lyra's ability to lie, but her calm rationality could persuade anyone. Others might have called it miraculous, but Will didn't believe in miracles and knew instead that all Mary's help was down to hard work and considerable kindness.

And she had taught him other things too, skills from their world and from the other worlds to which she'd travelled. Before they had sealed themselves in this world, Serafina Pekkala had taught her how to see people's daemons, and this was something she passed on to Will. It was a skill that came easily to Will; he was intimately familiar with the state of mind needed to use the knife, and he found it wasn't difficult to hold himself steady in both that state and his normal state of consciousness.

The ability was invaluable. Will didn't like to use it too often, because it felt intrusive – even though Mary pointed out that in some worlds, looking at someone's daemon was no more intrusive than looking at their face – but there were times when it was needed. When they had been looking for a carer for Will's mum they had met several people with daemons that Will would not have trusted – a snake, a fox, a chameleon – before a woman came along with a hen for a daemon, and Will knew she was the right person to look after his mother.

His mother had become worse while he had been away. The times when she was lucid were shorter and less frequent, and he worried that soon they would disappear altogether. Since being in Ci'gazze there had been one thought that had scared him about his mum, a thought that he had desperately tried to repress but could no longer ignore: maybe a Spectre had got her.

The Spectres were said to exist in this world, after all, just in smaller numbers, and the first time he had seen a Spectre victim in Ci'gazze he'd recognised the effect with a chilling familiarity. He couldn't be sure that that was what had happened to his mum, but now he had a way to find out. He could look for her daemon, and if she didn't have one there would be no denying what had happened.

The idea terrified him.

\--

As soon as Will had resolved to look at his mum's daemon, he felt guilty. This wasn't at all like Lyra's world, where daemons were commonplace and mundane and a normal part of social interaction. It felt like he was spying into something private, a part of their soul that wasn't meant to be seen, and that feeling on top of the fear of what he might find meant it took him a long time to even pluck up the courage.

He waited until she was asleep, because that meant Jill, the carer, would also be asleep and unlikely to disturb him. He didn't think he could be discreet about it in the daytime, but sneaking into his mum's room at night only made him feel more ashamed about what he was doing.

Still, he had to know.

He fell into the state of mind quickly and focused on his mother's form, relaxing and letting the image come to him in its own time. Patiently he waited, taking deep breaths, but it never usually took this long; he had practiced enough that it normally only took a moment. And if the daemon wasn't coming to him because it didn't exist, well - there was only one explanation for that, and it was one Will didn't want to consider.

Then, just as he was fearing the worst and a cold nausea was beginning to wash over him, he caught sight of a slight movement under the duvet. It didn't look like his mother, who was perfectly still; it was something else entirely. Anticipation rushed through him as he watched, holding his breath, and then from under the covers emerged a mole. The daemon snuffled around, tending to Will's mum, and Will felt he could almost cry just to see him. His mother hadn't been attacked by the Spectres after all; and now that the Spectres had been taken care of, that terrible fate would never befall her. Whatever her illness, nothing was as bad as that. She still wasn't well, but for the first time since Will had become aware that something was really wrong, he felt the slightest ray of hope. She wasn't well, but they would manage. They always did.

The mole-daemon seemed to notice something and left his place by Will's mum, crawling across the bed and flopping down on to the floor near to where Will was. Will held his breath but Kirjava approached the daemon, carefully because he seemed as blind as a real mole, and slowly touched a paw to the daemon's face. Will felt it himself, a constriction in his chest, and realised he was smiling.

And then the daemon did something that Will never expected, and spoke. He had never spoken to another's daemon before in this world; he had always thought that the ability he'd been taught was just to see them, but his mother's daemon spoke to him now.

"Will," the daemon said, and though he spoke quietly, his voice was strong and full of life. "Thank you for looking after us."

\--

A few weeks later, it was Midsummer. The sun was high in the sky as he strolled through the Botanic Gardens, following the path that Lyra had shown him and he had walked a hundred times since, until it was second nature and he could find his way in his sleep. Kirjava was ahead, padding along, and every now and then she turned back in impatience, waiting for Will to catch up. He quickened his step a little; he wasn't late, but he was eager.

Lyra had picked the perfect spot. Even on a gorgeous summer day the place was quiet and secluded, and Will sat down on the bench, feeling content as Kirjava jumped up onto his lap to join him. He had been steeling himself for this moment, expecting sadness, but instead he thrilled at the thought of Lyra so close to him. He glanced around him, but no one was near and he wasn't sure he'd even care if anyone was. Then, under his breath, even though he knew she couldn't hear him, he began to tell Lyra about his mother's daemon.

The words tumbled out of him, and as the sun reached the highest point in the sky, he began for the first time to feel at peace.


End file.
